


Inhereitance

by jynx



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Durin Family Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jynx/pseuds/jynx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with two silver hair clips Frerin made for him and Thorin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inhereitance

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry not sorry.

“Oy, Thorn, wait up!” Frerin called, running down the hall.

Thorin turned, almost too late, as Frerin crashed into him and the two went tumbling to the floor. Frerin was laughing as Thorin tried to extricate himself from his sticky brother--Frerin had a habit of sticking like a burr to Thorin whenever they were within shouting distance. Dwalin and Balin thought it hysterical while Thorin just felt annoyance. He loved Frerin, he really did, but no one wanted their little brother tagging along everywhere.

“Would you just, Durin, you’re horrible,” Frerin said, a slight whine to his voice, as Thorin finally got away.

“What do you want, Fern?” Thorin asked.

Frerin smiled, letting Thorin pull him to his feet. “I’ve got something for you!”

“What could you possibly have for me?” Thorin asked, reaching out to ruffle Frerin’s wild hair. His brother was always such a mess, refusing to do more than a couple of simple braids and leaving the rest to flow free.

Frerin smiled and dug in his pocket to pull out two silver clips. “One for you, one for me. I made them. They call on Mahal to protect the wearers.”

Thorin took one of the clips, turning it over in his hands. “Why?”

“Because I’ll always have your back, and you’ll always have mine. That’s what brothers do, right?”

Thorin looked at Frerin’s face, the bright smile and clear eyes, the pride he had in his work. “Aye, that’s what brothers do.”

“Put it in?” Frerin asked, handing his clip to Thorin and turning around. Thorin gathered most of Frerin’s loose hair, opting to help keep it out of his brother’s eyes, and clipped it back. “Good?”

Thorin stepped away and nodded. “You almost look like a proper dwarf.”

Frerin rolled his eyes, punching Thorin in the arm. “Gimme,” he said, holding his hand out for the clip he had gifted. Thorin let him take it and held still while his brother did the same for him, gathering his hair and clipping it back. “Perfect.”

Thorin smiled and slung his arm around Frerin’s shoulders. “C’mon, help me go beat that smug smile off Dwalin’s face.”

Frerin grinned almost ferally. “You know how much I like doing that.”

“And it’s always very amusing to watch it devolve into an all out brawl with the two of you playing dirty,” Thorin said.

“He’s the one who always starts it!” Frerin protested.

“Just make sure you’re the one who ends it,” Thorin said with a chuckle as they headed down to the practice rings.

:::

The battle was raging around them. Thorin worked his sword almost mechanically, swinging and killing and fighting back the hoard. Orcs and goblins are far as the eye could see and with that the sight of dwarf after dwarf dying. Frerin was at his back, Dwalin off to the side, the three of them fighting together like a well-oiled machine. No goblin or orc stood any chance while the three of them fought.

“This isn’t so bad,” Frerin shouted at Thorin. “We’re seen worse, haven’t we, brother?”

“Less talking, more fighting,” Dwalin scolded from where he was swinging his axes together to chop off an orc’s head.

Thorin couldn’t help the smile on his face. “Aye, we have seen worse.”

“So much worse,” Frerin said cheerfully. 

Thorin laughed and continued to fight. He was smashing his shield into the face of a goblin when he staggered forward, feeling the slice of a blade along his back. It wasn’t a bad injury, just one he hadn’t expected, not with Frerin there. He turned to look, seeing nothing but a goblin that he beheaded without a second thought. He looked around, then down, and felt his blood run cold and his skin prickle.

Frerin was on his knees, an arrow in his throat, one piercing his hand, and several more sprouting from his torso. Thorin scrambled over to his brother, falling to his knees and reaching out grab Frerin. His brother was still alive, choking on his own blood.

“Fern,” Thorin gasped, clutching him tight. “It’s going to be okay, just, just stay with me.”

Frerin tried to speak but all that came out was burbles of bright red blood. Thorin felt more than saw Dwalin guarding them, fighting off everything that came near them. Thorin stroked Frerin’s hair, not even aware of what he was saying, his sword lost somewhere near them as he held his little brother close. He watched the light go out of Frerin’s eyes, felt his body go limp in his arms as his brother passed to Mahal. He touched their foreheads together, wishing he could shed his tears for Frerin, but now was not the time. There would be time later for grief. Now was the time for revenge. He kissed Frerin’s hair and gently eased the clip out of his hair, clipping it under his clip to make sure not to lose it.

Dwalin looked grim, a slash across the side of his head and through his eyebrow that had not been there before. “Vengeance,” he said.

Thorin nodded, picking his sword up and turning back to the horde. “Vengeance.”

:::

Thorin watched Kili wiggle his way away from Fili only to get yanked by by his hair.

“Sit still,” Fili scolded. “You need to wear some braids.”

“I don’t want to!” Kili said. “They’re always getting in my way and smacking me in the face and they pull and they’re nasty!”

“You need to at least wear these two,” Fili said, pushing Kili down to sit and sitting behind him, knees wrapped around his squirmy younger brother. “Just two, all right?”

“But Fi,” Kili whined.

Fili rolled his eyes and braided Kili’s hair quickly, finger combing and braiding neatly and tightly. He ignored all of Kili’s squirming and whines and attempts to get away. Dis was chuckling from next to Thorin.

“Now that’s a familiar scene,” Dis said, nudging Thorin with her shoulder. “How many times did you nearly beat Frerin senseless just to get him to wear his hair properly?”

“Beyond count,” Thorin said with a chuckle. He watched his nephews with a fond smile, remembering memories that were still too painful to remember for long. He watched as Kili was released and promptly began unbraiding the braid Fili had just put in. Fili got to his feet and launched himself at his brother, the two of them yowling and fighting like two tomcats, each hellbent on getting their way. Dis watched them for a moment before sighing and wading in to separate her sons. Thorin watched as both boys were scolded before turning and walking back to the forge.

Dwalin looked up when he entered and headed to the back office they kept and pulled out the ornate silver box inlaid with emeralds and colored glass and black opals that Frerin had made him when he and Norlea had announces their intent to marry. It had originally been made to hold their rings but those rings had never been worn even if Thorin had kept them. Frerin's clips had joined the rings, locked away from all; Thorin's private heartache contained in one small box.

Now, though, he took the clips out. He ignored the rings except for a gentle two finger caress and closed the box. He snagged a polishing cloth off the desk as he walked back to the forge.

"Haven't seen those in an age," Dwalin said, looking up from the handle he was carving.

"Kili..." Thorin started. "He needs to keep his hair back."

Dwalin said nothing, going back to carving the handle. Thorin shook his head and went back to his sister's. Unsurprisingly the two were still at it, Dis sitting on the stoop with her pipe having obviously given up trying to corral her children.

"Enough," Thorin said, voice full of command. Fili froze and Kili, just like his long-dead uncle, took advantage to get his brother in a headlock that would not be easy to get out of. That was something to remember: Kili liked to fight dirty. "Boys, come here."

Fili, already with the start of a black eye, pulled himself to his feet and presented himself to Thorin. Kili sat where he was, arms crossed with a mulish expression on his face. Off to the side Dis sighed and shook her head. Fili glanced back and there must have been something on his face because Kili's eyes widened and he scrambled to his feet to stand next to Fili. 

"Yes Uncle?" Fili asked.

Thorin knelt down and showed them the clips he held. He could hear Dis's gasp as she saw the clips but was more interested in the way Kili grabbed one clip and started turning it over in his hands. Fili was a literally more hesitant, glancing at Thorin before taking the other clip.

"These are for you," Thorin said and laying his hands on their two small heads. "Your uncle Frerin made them when he was alive for me and him. They were meant for brothers, to be a pair again, and I think you should have them."

Kili kept turning the clip over in his hands before flouncing off to a nearby rock and waiting patiently. Fili glanced at him and rolled his eyes. Thorin smiled as Fili tucked the clip into a pocket and went to sit on the rock. He picked up strands of Kili's hair, attempting to braid it, and Kili reached back to pull his hair away from Fili. Thorin chuckled and watched as Fili swatted Kili's head and started gathering hair and clipped it back.

Kili stood and shook his head, hair flying around his face, and then jumped up and down a couple of times before turning and pouncing on Fili, knocking him to the ground. Fili shrieked as he fell off the rock as Kili laughed. Thorin could hear the word hobgoblin thrown around and Kili's bright laugh.

"I have no idea where he came from," Dis said with a puff of smoke.

"Fili calls him a hobgoblin?" Thorin asked.

"I think he's more of an imp but I'm not the one he goes to bother all the time," Dis said with a smile.

Thorin turned at the tug on his sleeve and looked at both his nephews with their hair clipped back. Kili was smiling proudly while Fili looked like he still wanted to beat some sense into Kili.

"You two look like proper princes now," Thorin said, kneeling down and pulling them in close for a hug.

:::

Thorin watched as Kili shot arrow after arrow at the target, never missing, arms and eyes strong and steady. He wanted to approve of his nephew's choice of weapon, to encourage him, but all he could see was Frerin. Frerin with arrows sprouting out of him, blood bubbling up from once smiling lips, bright eyes fading to dusk.

When Kili turned to smile at Thorin, wanting his uncle's approval, Thorin was no where to be found.

:::

“No,” Thorin said.

“We have to,” Fili said. “I have to. This is a quest to reclaim our home. You need us on this.”

“No,” Thorin said. Kili was leaning against the wall, looking unhappy, but he did not contradict his brother. “You would let him die?” he challenged his youngest nephew.

“This is important,” Kili said. His eyes were locked on Fili, face and eyes determined. “We have an obligation to go.”

“I have an obligation to stop you,” Thorin said.

“We have to go,” Fili said, stepping in to stand next to Kili. “This is what we have to do, Uncle. This is what you’ve been readying us for, teaching us about. This is what we were born to do.”

Thorin looked at them, his boys, their resolve, and nodded, hating himself.

:::

The battle raged around them, Thorin fighting with his boys by his side. Fili with his swords, chopping and swinging and looking like death incarnate; Kili with his bow and his rapidly dwindling arrows, his sword waiting for him to join his brother. Both of them with Frerin’s clips shining in their hair.

The three of them fought together as best they could, as only family could, slaying any who came within their reach. But it wasn’t the ones within reach that was the one to be worried about, it was the enemies afar. Kili jerked, taking a step back and stumbling before jerking a couple of times more. Thorin turned to look, eyes widening in horror.

There was an arrow sprouting out of Kili’s throat. Arrows grouped together in his chest, blood sliding down his chin. Fili had turned and shouted, going to his knees with his arms wrapped around Kili. He spoke rapidly, pressing his forehead against Kili’s, gripping his hand tight.All Thorin could see was Frerin; Frerin’s laugh, his smile, his death, his blood. Fili was about to get to his feet when an axe embedded itself in his back, an attack that was meant for Thorin until Fili has stood. Fili shouted, going to his knees, his hand gripping Kili’s shoulder. Fili curled close to Kili as he died, the two of them leaving this world as they had always been--together.

Thorin reached out to his boys, wanting to hold them one last time when something heavy stuck him in the back of the head. This was a fight, a battle, for Erebor, and yet all Thorin wanted was to gather his boys close and hold them. Apologize. This was the end and he had been the cause of all of it, all of their suffering. He wished he could have made it up to them, somehow.

:::

“They would have wanted you to have them,” Dwalin said roughly. He handed the clips to Dis, having cleaned and polished them until they shone.

Dis looked at them, taking them with a shaking hand, sliding them into her pocket. “Thank you, Dwalin,” she said softly.

“If you need help burying them…” Dwalin offered.

“Erebor is won?” Dis asked. Dwalin nodded. “I’m heading back to the Blue Mountains. Let Mahal take charge of my family. I will join them soon enough.”

“Dis,” Dwalin said, hesitating. He reached out and pulled her in close, hugging her. “It’s all right to mourn.”

Dis leaned into Dwalin and let herself mourn.


End file.
